The Stations of Falling Daylight and streetlight do a slow crossfade as the clock tower counts to six. February raindrops grow sluggish at 33 Fahrenheit, like eyelids thinking of long, cold sleep. Their frozen dreams must be like prayer, the faith in a sunburst eternal morning and the silvergreen ricochet from one crystal minaret to another, purple, gold, and the

Looks like we finally talked another bud, catwhite, into joining us here at LJ. Her inaugural post is a reply to my mid-life rant from yesterday. Make her welcome….

I recently received this from someone I correspond with. This person is employed by the Federal government. I think it raises all kinds of questions about how our tax-supported agencies are being adminstered. Draw your own clonclusions. __________________ Dear Sam: As I recently informed you, I have decided to no longer use my workplace email account except for work related

Even somebody who has struggled as mightily against the tides of age and convention as I have probably has to admit that by the time you hit 45 you should have decided what you want to be when you grow up. There is so much to love about what I do for a living, but there is also the soul-numbing

It took awhile, but I finally talked my colleague, Dr. Denny Wilkins, into joining us here at LJ. His first post is on the topic that had me so amped up yesterday, taxing tuition benefits. Read drdenny here.